


But There's No Wave

by gingerink



Series: Mercedorks AMG Works [4]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Brocedes, M/M, Romance, this is basically a titanic au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-09 13:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4350380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerink/pseuds/gingerink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico tells his story to Jenson Button, a treasure hunter in search of the elusive Petronas Diamond, thought to be lost in the depths of the ocean. Nico shows Jenson true love and the true struggle of two people from different backgrounds falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ocean Deep

**Author's Note:**

> This was born from a prompt by the lovely Lis (ssilverarrowss)  
> So enjoy!

**1996**  
  
Jenson Button seems to dance over the wreck of the ship, glancing down at the murky depths through the clear blue sea before him. Bubbles float around him, as he paddles down towards the wreck. He can see some members of his team floating around the stricken ship; they are mere black blurs in the water. Jenson swims over the algae covered surface; his finger itch to touch, to reach out and grasp a piece of history in his hands.  
  
_Patience,_ he thinks as he glides over the bow of the ship, his eyes scanning over the surface, over the tiny fish dancing through the seaweed growing on the ship’s once shiny, white surface.  
  
One of his team give the signal. Jenson’s face stretches into a smile underneath his breathing equipment. They’d been searching for months with no success. Jenson remembers reading about it in all the books he’d collected on the subject. _The Petronas Diamond_. A beautiful, exquisite teal coloured diamond, one of the rarest of the world, and according to rumours, had sunk with the world’s most famous ship.  
  
Jenson watches as two members of his team carry a large black box up to the surface. The smile stays on his face as he follows them up to the surface. His fingers continue to itch.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Jenson’s heart thuds against his ribcage as the safe’s code is finally cracked, Kevin gives him a brief smile as he hears the lock reluctantly click. Jenson moves forward, the itching is back in his fingers. His hands graze over the front door of the safe, slick with sea water. Algae collects underneath his fingernails. Jenson thinks back to the books in his study, one of them is sat by the ship’s steering wheel. He thinks about the shine of the teal coloured diamond, the perfect cut, how sharp it will feel between his fingers. He pulls the door open, his mouth dry. He peers inside the dark space and a frown pulls on his features. There’s no teal-coloured gleam from inside. There’s no diamond. Jenson grits his teeth.  
  
He rifles around inside the safe. He can see Kevin out of the corner of his eye, looking more and more deflated. Jenson’s fingers close around a sheet of paper. He draws it out and squints at it in the dying light. The paper is curling around the edges and is rough against Jenson’s fingers but his blue eyes glance over its contents.  
  
“What is it, Jenson?” Kevin asks, breaking the silence.  
  
“It’s not the diamond…but it’s something that will help us find the diamond.” Jenson whispers, almost to himself as his eyes cast over the picture; it’s a painting of a young man reclining on a bed, long blonde hair curls around his ears, piercing bright blue eyes, a thin, long face.   
  
He’s completely naked, his lower form covered only by a thin sheet carved out in oil paint. His eyes seem to glance straight at Jenson, they smoulder with a certain intensity. He’s beautiful; barely out of puberty. However, it is not the boy’s beauty that takes Jenson’s breath away. It is the teal-coloured diamond, stark against the pale skin of his throat that makes Jenson’s heart begin to beat once more. Jenson notices the date in the top corner.  
  
_April 14th 1912_  
  
His eyes widen in realisation.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Nico Rosberg sits at his home in Monaco, reading the morning newspaper. His daughter potters around fixing breakfast. Nico just pulls his glasses up onto his nose and runs a hand through his white hair. He frowns at the crossword before him.  
  
“I’m interested in the Titanic…but I’m more interested in the stories of the people on the Titanic.” Nico’s head slowly rises up, his blue eyes, still as intense as ever, to rest on the man speaking on the television. He was blonde, tanned, white teeth. Nico resists the urge to roll his eyes.  
  
“Earlier this morning, we uncovered a safe and inside, was a remarkable thing…we found a picture that has lay on the bottom of the ocean floor for years. Still as fresh as the day it was drawn.” He holds the drawing up to the camera. Nico drops the cup of tea he was holding. The edge have curled and the paper is no longer white, but Nico’s own face, only seventeen years old, is staring back at him from the television screen.  
  
_Lewis_ , he thinks.  
  
He puts down his half empty teacup and picks up the phone.  


* * *

  
  
“You have a phone call, a very important phone call.” Kevin says to Jenson over the roar of the ocean.  
  
Jenson raises an eyebrow but continues to pull on his diving suit. Kevin’s warm fingers over his wrist stop the Brit once more. A frown tugs on Kevin’s features. “I really think you should take this call.”  
  
Jenson sighs heavily. “Fine, but it better be good.” He takes the phone from Kevin’s hand and lifts it to his ear. “Hello, my name is Jenson Button, how can I help you?”  
  
“My name is Nico Rosberg, I was wondering how your search for the Petronas Diamond was going, Mr Button?”  
  
Jenson sits up ramrod straight.  
  
“You know about the Diamond, can you tell me who the young man in the painting is?” He asks, his eyes gleaming.  
  
“Yes, I can, Mr Button. The young man in the painting is me.” Nico says. Jenson feels a grin pull across his face.


	2. Years and Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenson tells Nico about what he already knows about him. Nico gets reacquainted with some personal effects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for this, hope you enjoy it, Lis!

Nico closes his eyes as the helicopter touches down on the helipad of the large boat. The face that was on the television; the one with the blonde hair, blue eyes and white teeth is standing at the forefront, his hair is blowing in the wind.  
  
“Mr Rosberg.” He shouts over the whirl of the rotor blades. “It’s lovely to see you.”  
  
Nico doesn’t respond, he just gives the blonde man a little smile as the crew begin to unload his suitcases. A dark skinned young man with a shock of dark hair jumps out of the helicopter by Nico’s side. They smile at one another and Pascal helps Nico to where his cabin is going to be.

“I hope everything is comfortable enough for you, Mr Rosberg.” Jenson says as he walks into the cabin. Nico is sitting on the bed, flicking through old photographs. Jenson glances down at a few – there’s a few of a younger looking Nico – with blonde hair and white teeth –wrapped around a man with dark hair.  
  
“This is my grandson, Pascal.” Nico says by means of greeting.  
  
Jenson smiles at the young man, who gives him a small smile in return, before he goes back to helping his grandfather flick through the photographs.  
  
“There is something you can do for me, Mr Button.” Nico says after a moment.  
  
“And what is that?” Jenson asks, he’s thinking about a certain teal coloured diamond.  
  
“I want to see my drawing.” Nico insists.  
  
Jenson raises his eyebrow but nods his head. “Of course, follow me.”

 

* * *

 

Nico’s eyes never leave the painting in his hands. His wrinkled fingers dance over it just for a moment tracing his youthful face. He remembers dark brown eyes gazing at him, the small slip of pink tongue poking out of a mouth, dark brown hair falling against light freckles. Delicate, long, dark skinned fingers grasping at charcoal.  
  
“As you know-“ Nico is snapped out of his daydreams by Jenson speaking to him. “The Petronas Diamond is the most elusive and rarest diamond in the world…stolen from King Bernie I, cut into a different shape… it’s supposedly lost in the waters below us.”  
  
“I only wore the diamond once, it was a horrible sharp thing.”  
  
“Grandfather, that can’t possibly be you in the picture.” Pascal pipes up, his dark eyes roving over the lines of the painting before him.  
  
Nico frowns. “I wasn’t always old. I was young once.” He mutters, shaking his head.  
  
“Funny thing about this diamond is that it seemed to disappear from history and then out of nowhere, there was an insurance claim…very hush hush. Came from a businessman-“  
  
“Wolff.”  
  
“That’s right…Mr Christian Wolff, Austrian fellow. He owned a few businesses here and there. The claim was for a teal-coloured diamond necklace that his son Toto bought his fiancé…you.”  
  
Nico averted his gaze, his teeth catching on his lip.  
  
“Now I checked the dates before you arrived, the claim was served a few days after the sinking…but this picture here-“ He points to the drawing in Nico’s hand. “Shows you wearing the very same necklace on the day that the Titanic sank…which is very interesting.”  
  
Nico doesn’t say anything. He just leans back in his chair, his fingers still gently rubbing the drawing as though it will disappear.

 

* * *

 

  
Jenson decides to allow Nico to see some personal effects pulled out of the water at around the same time as the safe, hoping to soften up the old man a little. He wants to find the diamond as soon as possible. Nico Rosberg is the key to finding such a treasure. He grins as he watches Pascal gently guide the old man into the room.  
Nico settles down into the chair and lets his blue eyes, still as bright as ever, glance over the effects laid out carefully on the table.  
Nico’s pale wrinkled fingers ghost over the handle of a small silver mirror. He wraps his hand around it; glossing over the cool metal.  
  
“This is mine.” He whispers. Pascal’s dark eyes – so similar to Lewis’s – widen in surprise at his grandfather’s words. Nico gently picks up the ornate mirror, the carvings cutting into his fingers like they did, years ago.  
  
He glances at his own reflection. He looks different now; his hair is still swept back from his face but it is steel grey, there’s a lot more wrinkles around his eyes and his mouth. Nico glances at the reflection before him. His hair seems to brighten into dark blonde, the wrinkles on his face seem to disappear, leaving pale unmarked skin behind, his lips seem to darken slightly. Nico looks back at his seventeen year old self. He’s in his dressing room on board the Titanic, he brushes a hand through his hair, looking carefully at himself in the mirror.  
  
Before Nico’s very eyes, the façade seems to lift and his aged face appears once more in the cracked glass.  
  
“It looks exactly the same…” He says quietly. “The reflection has changed though.” He lays the mirror back on the table before him.

 Jenson smiles as he watches Nico’s finger dance over the mirror, he glances into the cracked glass for a while. His clear blue eyes seem to cloud over for a moment as though he is searching for a memory. He thinks only of the Petronas Diamond as he steps up to the old man.

“Do you want to see the Titanic again?” He asks Nico.  
  
Pascal glances at his grandfather with worry dancing across his features. The hand on Nico’s shoulder tightens ever so slightly. Nico glances at Pascal with something in his eyes – Jenson cannot pinpoint the emotion – and he nods at his grandson. “I would like to see it.”  
  
Jenson nods. “Would you tell us-?”  
  
“Maybe.” Nico says, after a moment.

 

* * *

 

Nico watches the camera pan over the wreckage lying at the bottom of the ocean. His blue eyes glance over the plains of the ship, he tries to remember it standing in the harbour proudly, the gleam of fresh red and black paint. The camera begins to navigate its way through some of the deadwood and moves towards a pair of steel gates. Nico’s eyes widen as he glances over the gates, they look like an eerie ghost under the depths of the ocean.  
  
Pascal watches his grandfather, his teeth worrying his lip. Nico feels wetness sting at his eyes as he watches the camera hover over the gates. The memory pulls itself up from out of his brain. Nico remembers the same steel gates, the same room flooded with warm light. The gates are opened by two smiling footmen, clad in black suits. Nico can hear soft music drifting through the room. The memory stirs, pushing itself out of Nico’s mind as quickly as it came. Nico gasps at the loss, tears falling down his cheeks. He’s reached out and placed a hand against one of the screen, showing the wreckage. He glances at the wrinkles on his hands and lets out a sob.  
  
Pascal is immediately by his grandfather’s side. “You need to rest, Grandpa.” He says, his voice soft.  
  
Nico shakes his head. The tears cling to his eyelashes. “No, no, I don’t.” He says, his voice ringing out in the cabin. He pulls his hand away from the screen, his fingers linger on the smooth surface, just touching the stricken wreck. His eyes suddenly seem to harden as he turns and walks towards Jenson. He sits down on the chair next to where Jenson is standing.  
  
“I will tell you my story.”  
  
Jenson gently glances over the old man, his eyes softening. He accepts the tape recorder from Kevin and settles down in the chair next to Nico.  
  
“Tell us everything, Nico.”  
  
“It’s been eighty four years.” His voice is barely a whisper.  
  
“Just try to remember-“ Jenson says, softly. He doesn’t want to break the quiet.  
  
“It’s been eighty four years but I can see smell the fresh sea air of Southampton. I remember that the paint wasn’t even dry. Everything was brand new, the cutlery had never been used to eat food with, the beds had never been slept in, the floor had never been walked on. I remember the ship, it was beautiful. You’d never seen anything like that before.”  
  
The wreck on the screen behind Nico seems to morph and change at Nico’s words; the algae changing into black and white paint, the turrets standing proudly at the top.


	3. Farewell, Southampton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico takes Jenson back to 1912, when he beholds the Titanic for the first time. Lewis, a poor street urchin manages to find a way onto the ship with help of a pack of cards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter of this, sorry about all the updates.  
> Enjoy!

**_1912_ **

The car pulls up just outside the harbour. The Titanic stands proudly in all her glory, gleaming. The paint is still wet in some places. The harbour is bustling; the workers trying to get the cargo loaded onto the magnificent ship, the people all crowd around, most of them don’t have the opportunity to board the Titanic but their eyes still dance over it with awe and wonder. Some people are waving to others lucky enough to get onboard.  
The chauffeur opens the door. A pale hand rests on the door handle. A young man steps out onto the cobbles. He’s beautiful; long blonde hair swept back from his youthful face, he’s wearing a high collared shirt and long black breeches, his navy travelling coat fitted to him like a glove. Seventeen year old Nico Rosberg glances up at the ship standing before him in the harbour. His dark blue eyes fall over each detail of the ship. He closes his eyes for a moment, takes in the fresh sea air.  
He feels movement behind him, a hand grazing lightly against his wrist, the familiar scent of a specific cologne.  
  
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Toto says from behind him, his voice grazes against Nico’s ear, making the teenager shiver.  
  
“I don’t see what all the fuss is about.” Nico turns to face his fiancé. Toto glances down to him, there’s a glint of something in his brown eyes, the beginnings of a smirk curling around his lips. “It doesn’t look any bigger than the Mercedes.” Nico sniffs.  
  
Toto shakes his head, the smile stays on his face. “You may be right about a lot of things, Nico, but not about the Titanic. It’s over a hundred feet longer, it has squash courts, a Parisian cafe and the food is to die for. We shall be very comfortable here.”  
  
“We shall be very comfortable _indeed_.” Another voice, very similar to Nico’s, announces.  
  
“Your son is much too hard to impress, Keke.” Toto says, his voice is light-hearted.  
  
Keke smiles at Toto with intent, eyeing over the man that his son was to marry. Keke steps closer to the ship, looking upon it with his dark blue eyes – the same eyes Nico has inherited – he glances carefully over every feature, as though to commit it to memory.  
  
“So this is this ship that they call unsinkable?” He asks the question out loud.  
  
“It _is_ unsinkable.” Toto cuts in, moving his hand away from Nico’s wrist. “They say that God could not sink this ship.”  
  
He stops for a moment and picks out his pocket watch, glancing at it. His brow wrinkles as he presses the watch back into his pocket.  
  
“We must get a move on.” He says, signalling to the porters to begin collecting their luggage. He moves to catch Nico with one arm, wrapping it around his waist. Nico smiles at him for a moment, it’s a quick upturn of his lips, enough to suggest that everything is not all it seems. Toto leads him onto the ship, his hand like iron around Nico’s waist.

 

_For all of Titanic’s beauty…it also held a curse, for this ship would take me back to America, where I would be forced to spend the rest of my life chained to a man I didn’t love…_

The ship’s whistle blew out into the air, bellowing out the departure warning for all to hear. It seems to echo all the way through Southampton.

 

* * *

 

In a smoky pub, next to the harbour, a young man of eighteen glances at his partner across the table, a smile playing upon his lips. The young man is long and lanky, more from malnutrition than anything else. His clothes; a long white shirt, a tattered waistcoat and an old peacoat envelope his slight form. He brushes a hand through his hair and takes another drag of his cigarette. He watches the pair opposite, carefully, they both speak in Spanish but they sound annoyed.  
  
“Lewis.” His partner glances at him. “You have bet everything we have.”  
  
“Heikki.” Lewis turns toward Heikki, smiling at the Finn, the cigarette still between his lips, “When you’ve got nothing, you’ve got nothing to lose.”  
  
Across the table the two Spaniards argue in their native tongue.  
  
“I cannot believe you bet on our tickets.” One of them spits. The third class Titanic tickets seem to gleam in the sunlight, surrounded by a pile of gold and silver coins from four different countries and a few other trinkets.  
  
“Hit me, Fernando.” Lewis says, cigarette still between his lips. He takes the card and slips it into his hand. His dark brown eyes betray nothing. Heikki refuses a card. The Titanic’s whistle blows again.  
  
“Alright,” Lewis says, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. “Moment of truth, boys. Somebody’s life is about to change.” He glances at Heikki, who lays his cards out.   
  
“Nothing.”  
  
One of the Spaniards lays his cards out, his face twisted into a frown.  
  
“You’ve got nothing. And you?” His brown eyes fix on Fernando. Oh, there’s got a two pair…” He sucks his lip in between his teeth, showing off the small gap in the middle. He turns to Heikki. “I’m so sorry-“  
  
Heikki begins to curse in Finnish. “Lewis, you are kidding me-“  
  
Lewis cuts him off. “I’m sorry that you aren’t going to see Finland for a long time.” He smirks, taking a pull of the cigarette. “Because you’re going to America! Full house boys!”  
He whoops, throwing his cards down on the table.   
  
Heikki whoops out in joy and scoops up the two tickets, waving them around in the smoky bar. Lewis flicks his cigarette to one side and begins scooping up the coins when one of the Spaniards grabs hold of his shirt. He spits something at Lewis in Spanish, showering the teenager with spit. However, as he pulls back his fist to punch, he misses Lewis completely, hitting Fernando in the cheek. The Spaniard lets go of Lewis’s wrinkled shirt. Lewis smirks at Heikki, throwing his arms around the Finn.  
  
“We’re going to America!” He whoops in the blonde’s ear.  
  
“The Titanic is going to America in five minutes.” The barman says, he’s been watching the entire exchange, he points at the clock on the wall.  
  
It reads five minutes to twelve. Lewis’s dark brown eyes go wide, he grabs the bag and begins pushing all of the coins into it. Heikki’s fingers wind around the tickets as though to protect them.

 

* * *

 

Lewis dashes through the crowds that seem fuller and thicker than a few hours ago, the sack jingles with coins.  
  
“That’s it, Heikki! We are riding in high style now!” He yells as they run , dodging people waving to the ship. Men, women, children of all ages and classes line the harbour edge, watching the grand ship.  
  
“We’re practically royalty.” Lewis says, dodging a horse carriage in his pursuit to find the entrance.  
  
“I can’t believe it.” Heikki yells from somewhere behind him, he sounds breathless.  
  
“I thought you were fast!” Lewis jokes as he moves away from a woman holding a giant parasol.  
  
“I might not be as fast as you, but I’ve got the tickets.” Heikki shouts back, dodging a young child.  
  
Lewis’s eyes seem to brighten when he spots the walkway leading into the ship. His boots hit the wood. “Passengers, coming through!”  
  
He pauses at the guard who is waiting at the door, glancing at his watch. Heikki pushes past Lewis and presses the two tickets into the inspector’s hand.  
  
“You’re late. Have you been through the inspection?” The man asks them.  
  
Heikki hesitates but Lewis fixes the man with a huge grin. “Of course.”  
  
The man seems to accept this and moves aside. “Welcome aboard.”  
  
Lewis and Heikki jump on board the ship, their feet leaving dry land.  
  
They run through the corridors whooping. “We’re such lucky sons of bitches.” Lewis calls out to Heikki, pressing the Finn into another hug. Heikki laughs. The whole ship seems to boom.

 

* * *

 

The ropes are untied from the harbour. The anchor is pulled up. Lewis and Heikki look at one another and race up to the top deck. They both stand on the railings looking down on the harbour as the Titanic begins to pull away from its port. Lewis waves at the crowd, the sea air is rough against his cheeks. The plumes of smoke from the ship seem to drift over the city. The ship roars into life, gliding through the dark waters.


	4. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico quickly realises what married life with Toto is going to be like. Lewis catches a glimpse of a certain upset blonde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the updates on stuff recently, guys.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Nico holds the new painting in his hands, feeling the rough canvas beneath his fingers. His blue eyes trace over every detail of the picture before him. He can imagine the artist’s brush moving the oil paint around in swirls. He and his father are inside their chambers, sorting through their luggage.  
  
“This place could use some brightening up.” Nico says, seemingly to himself, as he glances at the dark mahogany walls.  
  
“God, not more of those god awful paintings going up on the walls, dear?” Toto’s voice booms into the room. The Austrian man is leaning on the doorframe, his lips stretched into a smile, as he watches Nico carefully. “You like to waste my money.” He continues, taking a sip from his flute of champagne.  
  
"The difference-“ Nico says, turning to the maid helping him unwrap some of his possessions, “between Toto’s taste in art and mine is that I have some.” He turns to smile at his fiancé who smiles back. He places the painting down on the floor gently. “Art is an escape, it transports you to a place you never knew were possible.”  
  
“But ultimately, is it not reality that proceeds over everything? Art can only give you a certain degree of escape.” Toto’s eyes lock on Nico, brown holding on blue. Nico sighs heavily and makes his excuses to leave the room in search of a particular set of cufflinks, leaving Toto standing in his room with an empty champagne glass, his dark eyes flickering over the paintings.  
  


_Before we could even get comfortable, we were steaming west from the coast of Ireland, the coastline of England and of freedom was a distant memory, before us was nothing but crystal blue ocean. It looked beautiful at that time but I knew, I knew it was the path to my destiny, to my future in chains…_

 

* * *

 

Captain Bernie Ecclestone looks out over the expanse of ocean, the sun is beating down on his face. A grin falls on his lips as he turns to his first mate.  
  
“Mr Horner, take her to sea.”  
  
“Yes, sir.” Mr Horner replies.  
  
The lever of the Titanic is pulled into the full speed position. The needles on every reader seem to shoot upwards. The moans of the man throwing coal into the ship’s enormous engines can barely be heard over the crash of the waves. The Titanic powers through the water like it were butter. The captain spots two young men, one with dark skin and one with blonde hair standing on the bow of the ship, hanging over the side, looking over the crashing waves ahead of them.  
  
“Twenty one knots, sir.” Mr Horner snaps him out of his thoughts.  
  
“Excellent work, Mr Horner.” Bernie smiles, feeling the sun on his face.  
  
He glances back at the bow. The dark skinned man has climbed up on one of the ropes, his legs on the railings, his arms outstretched and his long peacoat flapping behind him as he proclaims, “I am the king of the world!” He and the blonde whoop at the top of their voices towards the expanse of ocean.  
  
Bernie shakes his head and accepts the cup of tea brought to him.

 

* * *

 

“Of course, she is the largest object made by human hand in the whole of history, a delightfully magnificent machine is she not?” The man with the moustache – Nico forgot his name about twenty minutes ago – smiles at everyone around the table. He sips from a glass of whiskey.  
  
The master-builder of the ship – Nico remember his last name been Brawn or Brown or something pipes up. “I envisioned a ship so grandiose, so luxurious, that anybody who laid eyes on it would be in awe…a ship that would remain unchallenged as a great master of the sea. And here she is.” He pats the wooden table before them, making the cutlery rattle. Nico fiddles with his collar before he pulls out a cigarette, attaches it to his holder and lights it from one of the candles in the middle of the table.  
  
Keke’s smile thins into a severe line. “Nico,” he mutters to his son. “You know I don’t like it when you do that.”  
  
Nico pauses for a moment, blowing the smoke out of his lips in an almost graceful movement.  
  
“Yes, dear, you know.” Toto says out of nowhere, the smile on his face disappears as he plucks the cigarette out of Nico’s holder and crushes it in the ashtray before him. The rest of the table glance over the Austrian, their eyes gloss over Nico and his features which have turned to stone.  
  
Toto intercepts the waiter. “Now, we’ve both have the roast beef with gravy and a touch of mustard, go easy on the potatoes.”  
  
The waiter nods.  
  
“You like mustard right, darling?” Toto turns back to Nico, the smile is back on his face. His hand ghosts over Nico’s thigh gently, his fingers are like ice against Nico’s skin. He feels numb.  
  
“Are you going to cut it up for her as well, Mr Wolff?” Another guest, Vivian –if Nico recalls her name correctly – pipes up, smile on her face.  
  
Toto gives her a glare, his eyes seem to turn to steel.  
  
“Why did you call it Titanic?” She changes the subject, meeting his glare head on.  
  
“We wanted to convey a particular meaning, size, stability and strength. Key factors of the male preoccupation.”  
  
“Tell me, Sir.” Nico says sweetly. “Could the sheer size of this ship be something to do with your determination to make up for size somewhere else?” He smirks at the man with the moustache, watching his face drop.  
  
Keke hisses something at him but he doesn’t listen.  
  
“Excuse me.” Nico says. He spots Vivian’s smirk across the table as he places his napkin gently down on the table and excuses himself, his father’s apologies ring in his ears.

 

* * *

 

Lewis sits on the deck, the wind gently blowing through his hair. He watches a father and his young daughter perched on the side of the railings, he’s pointing out dolphins to her as she excitedly asks a number of questions. Lewis glances down at the pad before him, the charcoal lines sit rugged on the page, much like his future. He glances at the charcoal on his fingers, the coal black dust sticking in between the creases on his thumb. He glances back at the father and daughter and continues shading in the father’s trench coat, the picture coming to life before him.  
  
He glances up towards the balcony. His brown eyes stop on the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. He walks with a certain grace, his long blonde hair moves gently in the breeze. The man walks towards the railings and rests his arms on them, glancing out to sea. He’s wearing a fitted blue suit, Lewis feels his heart stop.  
The man seems to realise Lewis’s gaze on himself and he glances down, their eyes lock. Blue on brown. Lewis exhales, he can’t seem to take his eyes off the beautiful man stood above him.  
  
“Forget it.” Heikki says at the side of him. “You won’t get close to a guy like that.”  
  
Lewis takes no notice, his eyes still resting on the man. His fingers itch to trace out the blonde hair, the almond shaped blue eyes, he wonders if he has a crayon which is that particular shade of blue.  
  
However, a man arrives to shatter Lewis’s perfect picture. A tall, dark and handsome man appears behind the beautiful blonde, his arm touching the man’s shoulder. He’s wearing an expensive suit and hat, Lewis spots a pocket-watch chain hanging from his waistcoat. The blonde man turns towards the dark haired man, his face twisting into a grimace of frustration. He shrugs off the man's touch to his hand. The pair seem to argue for a moment before the beautiful blonde walks away from the dark haired man. The dark haired man watches him leave, his jaw set.


	5. Don't Jump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico contemplates a difficult question. Lewis provides the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's this scene, hope you all enjoy it! :)

**_1912_ **

_I saw my future life before me in that moment…I saw an endless parade of people waiting to shake my hand, kiss my cheeks, compliment me on my clothes…I saw a life filled with parties, invitations, nothing to look forward to but going to the boutiques in London and returning to cold arms in a marital bed…amongst the same people who talked of nothing but their own wealth. Nobody seemed to care, nor notice. It was like I could disappear and they would continue sipping from their expensive wine glasses…_   
  


Nico’s footsteps echo against the wooden deck. His heart beats heavily against his chest, a sob threatens to burst free of his chest. His eyes are filling with tears as he runs across the length of the ship, pushing past a couple enjoying a late evening stroll. A sob tears free of his throat as he descends down the stairs, his long blonde hair falling in curls across his face. He thinks of nothing but his future life, of been ignored, been told what to do, what to wear, how to please his new husband. Tears fall down his face.

 

* * *

 

Lewis is laying on one of the narrow benches near the front of the deck, cigarette in his mouth. He watches the stars, noting down the constellations as he gently blows smoke into the picture before him. It’s quiet on the deck, most people are either inside dining or asleep. The only thing Lewis can hear is the sound of the waves crashing against the ship. His fingers itch for his charcoal and his drawing pad back in his cabin, he wants to trace every star across the paper.   
However, the quiet suddenly disappears as Lewis hears footsteps pounding past him, a sob tearing free of the person’s lips as they run past him. Lewis pushes himself up off the bench and sees blonde hair and a pressed navy jacket. His brown eyes widen in confusion as he follows the running man.

 Nico continues running towards the back of the ship. His shoes click against the wooden floorboards, his coat billows out behind him. His thoughts are focused on nothing but the life ahead of him. He cries out for simpler times, he thinks about the ring on his finger, holding him down to a life he doesn’t want. He hits the railings at the back of the ship and glances down at the black waves. The metal of the railing feels cool against his hip. He keeps his eyes trained on the waves lapping at the side of the ship.

He lets his eyes fall closed, the tears drying on his cheeks as he puts a foot onto the railing. He steps up, feeling the salty air on his cheeks. Another sob rips free of his throat as he clings onto one of the poles. He opens his eyes, clasping the rope before him. His blonde hair blows around gently in the wind as he climbs down over the railing. He pauses for a moment to look out over the bright lights of the ship, he thinks about the life he is leaving behind. He wonders if it will hurt when he hits the icy water. He turns around, his back to the railings, his hands holding onto the top. His coat billows out from behind him, his blonde hair catching against his drying cheeks. He exhales deeply. His heart is pounding in his chest. He glances down at the waves before him.  
  
“Don’t do it.” A voice gently says from behind him.  
  
Nico whips around, his blue eyes wide with fear. He notices it’s the dark-skinned man who was looking at him earlier. He looks even more beautiful up close, caramel coloured skin, freckles across his cheeks. His eyes are a deep, dark brown and they look worried. He takes a step towards Nico.  
  
“Stay back.” He cries out. “Don’t come any closer.”  
  
The man bites his lip but reaches out a hand, his brown eyes are full of fear.  
  
“No! Stay away from me!” Nico says, his fingers ache on the railings. “I’ll let go.” He whispers, a tear falling down his cheek.   
  
His chest is so tight, he feels like he cannot breathe. He feels like he’s already been pulled under the water, like the waves are already consuming him. The dark-skinned man plucks the cigarette from his mouth and slowly moves over to the side of the railings. He tosses it over the side and meets Nico’s gaze.  
  
“No, you won’t.” He says, carefully, his dark eyes never leave Nico’s.  
  
Nico snaps his head to the side, frown appearing on his face. “What do you mean no, I won’t? Don’t you dare presume to tell me what I am to do and what I am not to do.” The life ahead of him flashes before his eyes once more, he pictures all the parties that he and Toto will hold, all the wealth he will have, how comfortable he and his father will be. He thinks about the empty bedsheets, the empty nursery, the empty house when Toto is on business. “You don’t know _me_.” He says, angrily.  
  
The man contemplates his words for a moment before he shrugs, his liquid brown eyes locking on Nico once more. “Well, you would have done it already.”  
  
Nico feels any words die on his lips. He tears his gaze away from the dark-skinned man, focusing back on the crashing waves below him.  
  
“You’re distracting me! Please go away!” He pleads – he knows he sounds like a maiden but he doesn’t care right now – this man is plaguing his every thought, the brown eyes are branded into his mind whenever he closes his eyes.  
  
“I can’t.” The man admits, his voice is full of honesty. “I…I’m involved now, if you jump, I’m going to have to jump in there after you.” He shrugs off his long pea coat, dropping it in a pile on the floor. Nico looks at the man with wide blue eyes, a breath caught in his throat. Their eyes seem to lock – brown on blue.  
  
“Don’t be absurd, you would be killed instantly.” Nico feels a hysterical laugh catch the back of his throat.  
  
“I’m a good swimmer.” The man replies, glancing at Nico carefully. Nico feels the brown eyes cut through to his very soul.  
  
“The fall alone would kill you.” Nico says, his fingers are starting to feel numb against the railings.  
  
“It would hurt…but honestly, the bigger concern is how cold the water is.” The man says carefully, unlacing one of his boots. It falls against the wooden floorboards with a thud. The dark-skinned man glances up at Nico. Nico purses his lips. Silence hangs in the air.  
  
“How cold is the water?” Nico whispers after a moment.  
  
“Freezing, maybe a few degrees here or there.” The man keeps his gaze on Nico, pulling his other boot free.  
  
Nico glances down at his socked feet on the floorboards of the ship.  
  
“I live in England and once we had a really cold summer, one of the coldest on record,” the man begins. “We went ice skating, me and my brother, on a frozen lake. But it wasn’t thick enough, I fell straight through. The water felt like a thousand knives dragging themselves over your body. You can’t breathe, you can’t think, you can’t see. All you can think about is the pain…” He pauses for a moment. “Which is why I’m not looking forward to jumping in with you.” Nico fixes the man with a look. But he shrugs it off and removes his outer jacket, leaving him in a thin khaki shirt and braces.  
  
“I guess I’m hoping that you’ll change your mind and come back over here, get me off the hook.” The man’s gaze is tender, worried.  
  
“You’re crazy.” Nico hisses. The tears come once more.  
  
“That’s what everybody says. But with all due respect, _Sir_ , I am not the one hanging off the railings of a ship.” He pauses for a moment. “Please, give me your hand.” He whispers, his voice barely audible over the roar of the wind. His hand brushes against Nico’s wrist.  
  
“You don’t want to do this, no matter how bad things feel.” The man presses gently, he holds his hand out in front of Nico. Nico bites his lip, his heart still thundering against his chest as he glances at the hand in front of him. He tentatively places his own hand in the strangers, the man’s dark fingers close over Nico’s pale ones. Nico slowly turns around, his shoes clipping against the railing. He faces the man for the first time, staring into his brown eyes. The man before him smiles gently, never breaking eye contact.  
  
“I’m Lewis Hamilton.” He says gently.  
  
“Nico Rosberg.” Nico replies. Their hands still locked together, warm fingers brushing against ice-cold ones.  
  
“Come on, let’s get you down.” Lewis says, his voice soft like silk. Nico nods and steps up. However, his toe catches on his jacket, making his foot slip away. He yells out as he slips down away from the railing. However, Lewis still is grasping his hand.  
  
“I’ve got you, Nico.” He calls out as he begins to pull Nico back up towards the railings.  
  
However, Nico’s foot slips once more and he screams out, his eyes focused on the angry waves below him, his only thought is about how cold the water is, how cold Lewis said it was…  
  
“Nico, look at me.” Lewis yells. Nico looks up. Lewis’s face is twisted in worry, his eyes look almost black in the light. “Listen to me, listen to me, I’ve got you, I am not going to let you go.”  
  
Nico believes him. Lewis grasps his arm and pulls hard, Nico works with him, pushing himself up onto Lewis. He feels Lewis’s arms around him, they’re warm and comforting, they seem to ignite something in Nico that he has not experienced before. Nico’s feet manage to pulls themselves over the railings and Lewis takes Nico’s full weight. He struggles down to the floor, Nico hitting the deck first, Lewis on top of him. Nico’s arms are still wrapped around his neck.  
  
“Are you okay-“  
  
“What is going on?” A voice cuts him off. Three guards stand before them. Lewis rips himself away from Nico. The guards take in the scene before them, Nico is shivering and sobbing on the deck. Their eyes glance over to where Lewis’s boots and his pea coat lie in a pile on the deck.  
  
“Stay where you are.” One of them hisses. “Don’t make a move.”  
  
Lewis sighs heavily, his palms still warm from Nico’s touch.

 

* * *

 

Lewis hisses in pain as the master-at-arms tightens the handcuffs around his wrists. The man from before, the tall one with black hair stalks around him, his face twisted in anger.  
  
“What made you think that you could put your _dirty_ hands on _my fiancé?_ ” He spits at Lewis, looking the dark-skinned man up and down.  
  
Lewis glances towards Nico who is wrapped up in a blanket, a maid pressing tea into his cold fingers.  
  
“Look at me, you filth!” The man hisses, grabbing hold of Lewis’s shirt and shaking him.  
  
“Toto-“ Nico cuts in.  
  
Toto takes no notice of his fiancé’s pleas. “What were you doing?” He asks, his voice dangerously low.  
  
Nico is out of his seat, the blanket pooling on the floor. “Toto, darling, stop-“ Nico pleads, putting his body in between Toto and Lewis. “It was an accident.” He says, glancing into his fiancé’s brown eyes. Toto glances back, confused.  
  
“An accident?” He says, after a moment, the curve of a smile appearing across his mouth.  
  
Nico pauses for a moment. “It was,” He says, gaze unwavering. A smile curls across his lips. “It was stupid, really. I came out to get some fresh air, I was leaning over the railings and I slipped.”  
  
Lewis’s brow furrows.  
  
Nico continues, smile still on his face. His hand is pressed against Toto’s chest, the material stiff against his palms. “I saw some dolphins and I wanted to see more so I leaned over and I slipped. This man, Mr Hamilton here, he saved me. He almost went over himself.”  
  
Toto seems to accept Nico’s answer. He smiles, his hand grazing over Nico’s own. “I’m just glad that you are safe, my love.”  
  
Nico feels sick.

* * *

The master-at-arms turns his attention to Lewis. “Is Mr Rosberg’s account correct, boy?”  
  
Lewis pauses for a moment before he nods. “Yeah, yes, that is what happened.”  
  
The master-at-arms lips twist into a small smile. “The boy is a hero then.”  
  
Lewis breathes a sigh of relief as the cold metal of the handcuffs stops biting into his wrists.  
  
“Come, Nico, you will catch your death out here.” Lewis watches Toto gently place his arm over Nico and walk him away from the deck.  
  
“Mr Wolff, surely you should consider rewarding the boy.” The master-at-arms calls out.  
  
Toto swivels around, the smile is back across his face. “Hmmm, yes, Pascal, a twenty should do it.” He nods at one of his servants.  
  
Nico glances back at Lewis, still standing on the deck in his socks. “Is that the running rate for saving me, the man that you love, that you are to marry?” He snorts, his voice almost like a challenge.  
  
Toto meets his gaze head on. “Oh, darling, you’re displeased. I know what should help.” The smile remains on his face as he leaves Nico’s side, approaching the dark-skinned man.  
“Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow evening, to tell us your heroic tale of how you saved my fiancé one last time.”  
  
Lewis pauses for a moment, brown eyes lock on brown. “Sure, count me in.”  
  
Toto continues smiling but it looks forced, it stretches his mouth a little too much. “It is settled then.”  
  
He turns on his heel, his arm moving to settle around Nico’s waist. Nico glances back at Lewis for a moment, their eyes lock once again. Lewis watches the party leave, he thinks about how haunting Nico’s eyes were. He lights a cigarette and leans over the side of the railings.


	6. Like Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toto presents Nico with a beautiful gift. Nico learns about Lewis and his talents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! :)

Nico glanced at himself in the looking glass, his face looked more worn than usual. There were the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes, his hair was more ruffled than usual, his eyes seemed to have lost their shine. He let his hand fall across the smooth curves of his face in wonder.  
He wondered if Toto would have selected a different spouse had he not being so beautiful. He picked up his hairbrush and began to brush gently through his blonde hair, ignoring the dull shine that reflected off the brush’s silver handle.  
The door opens carefully. Nico pauses, his blue eyes dancing towards the door.  
  
“I know you are melancholy.” A familiar voice drifts through. Nico sighs, putting down his hairbrush.  
  
Toto stands in the doorway. “I don’t pretend to know why.” He says carefully. He steps into the room, carefully, walking over to Nico’s dressing table. “I intended to save this for the engagement gala next week.” He sits down on Nico’s coffee table, moving the hairbrush to one side. He’s holding a box in his hand, his finger moving over the clasp. He glances at Nico, blue eyes locking on brown as he carefully opens the lid.

The most exquisite diamond necklace was sitting on the silver-coloured velvet. It was beautiful; the chain was solid silver, glinting in the dim light of Nico’s cabin. The diamond itself was one that Nico had never before seen; its colour was of a light teal, it was slightly pointed. Nico’s eyes danced over the jewel, his mouth falling open.  
  
“My goodness, it’s beautiful.” Nico whispers, his hand moving to gently ghost over the jewel. It glistened delicately in the light.  
  
“It is a reminder of my feelings for you…teal to remind you of the journey we took together across the ocean to our future. And I know it’s your favourite colour.”  
  
Nico bites his lip. He glances up to Toto. “Is it a-?”  
  
“Diamond? Yes,” The grin was back on Toto’s face. A lock of his hair had fallen away from his usually coiffed, swept back look. It made him look softer, somehow. He pulls the necklace out of the box carefully and moves around the back of Nico.  
  
The chain is cold against Nico’s bare neck. “Fifty six carats to be exact.” Toto says, quietly as he gently places the necklace around his fiancé’s neck. Nico feels the diamond fall against the hollow of his throat. It’s smooth and sharp, and hard against his soft skin. It almost reminds him of his future life with the man standing behind him, smiling. The diamond is sharp, like a reminder of how his freedom will be sliced away.  
  
“It was worn by King Bernie I, they call it the Petronas Diamond after the region it was mined in.” Toto’s voice is almost a whisper, ghosting against Nico’s bare shoulder.

Nico’s hand moves up to ghost over the jewel once more, glinting against the pale skin of his neck. He glances at himself in the mirror, his eyes dancing over the diamond around his neck, marking it out, marking him as a possession.  
  
“It’s overwhelming.” Nico says, his eyes on his reflection.  
  
“Well, it’s for royalty.” Toto replies, the smile still on his face. Nico glances down at the diamond and at himself, he doesn’t suit such a large jewel around his neck. He feels like a lady.  
  
“We are royalty, Nico.” Toto says gently, his lips barely touching Nico’s ear.  
  
“There’s nothing I could not give you, or deny you.” The smile stretches his mouth. “If you would not deny me.”  
  
Nico feels Toto’s brown eyes lock on him. “I hope you will open your heart to me, Nico. I fear it will be a very unhappy marriage on your behalf if you do not do so…” The smile flickers, Toto’s eyes seem to harden.  
  
Nico says nothing, he just glances back at his own reflection. The diamond feels like a weight around his neck.

 

* * *

 

“My mother died when I was twelve. My father died three years later. I had no brothers or sisters. So I left, I never went back…I never settle in one place.” Lewis says, carefully. He and Nico are walking along the deck, the sunshine beaming down on their faces.  
  
Lewis stops for a moment. “Well, Nico, we’ve walked about a mile around this boat-“  
  
“ _Ship_ ,” Nico corrects him.  
  
Lewis raises an eyebrow, before he continues. “We discussed how nice the weather has been and where I grew up. But I’m thinking that that is not the reason you came to talk to me, is it?”  
  
Nico bites his lip, he glances up at chocolate brown eyes before he looks down at his feet once more.  
  
“Mr Hamilton, I-“ He begins.  
  
“Call me Lewis.”  
  
“Lewis.” Nico tries to ignore the warm sensation that spreads through his chest when the name leaves his lips. “I wanted to thank you for what you did, not just for pulling me back but for your discretion.” He glances at Lewis.  
  
Lewis’s brown eyes lock on his own. “You’re welcome.” He replies.  
  
“Look, I know what you must think of me… poor little rich boy, that I know nothing of misery, that I can’t feel pain…” He can’t finish his sentence. He stops, glancing at the dark-skinned man.  
  
“No, no, that’s not what I think at all. My only thoughts last night were of what happened to this rich boy to feel he had no way out, that his only option was to end his life.” His eyes never leave Nico’s.  
  


Nico hesitates for a moment, before he moves over to the side of the railings. “It was _everything_ ,” He says, quietly. “My entire world and all the people in it, I thought of nothing but my future, of all the people controlling my life and me, powerless in my own destiny.” He throws his hand forward, showing off the gleaming engagement ring on his finger.  
  
Lewis glances down at the shiny diamond wrapped around Nico’s fingers. “Damn, look at that thing! You’d have gone straight to the bottom.” His voice is light, almost joking. His finger dances across Nico’s fingers. Nico feels his heart jolt.  
  
“Five hundred invitations have gone out, all of America’s wealthiest families will be there. Everyone talks to me of my jewels, of my wedding clothes, of what my life will be like once a wedding ring joins this one… all I think about is how powerless I feel, that I am screaming out for help and nobody listens.”  
  
There’s a pause.  
  
“Do you love him?” Lewis asks, his eyes look lighter, almost golden.  
  
“Pardon me-“ Nico’s head flies up, his eyes locking with Lewis’s. “You are being very rude, you shouldn’t be asking me that.”  
  
“Well, it’s a simple question. Do you love the guy or not?”  
  
  
Nico feels a laugh bubble up. “This is not a suitable conversation for me to be having with the likes of you-“  
  
“True, but you did seek me out yourself. Why can’t you answer the question?” The grin on Lewis’s face widens. Nico feels a grin appear on his face.  
  
“I can’t believe you and I are having this conversation. You are rude and uncouth, you are too presumptuous. Lewis, I am leaving now. It’s been a pleasure, I sought you out to thank you and now I have.” His hand meets Lewis’s and he shakes it. The warmth of Lewis’s fingers creep over his own.  
  
“And you insulted me.”  
  
“Well, you deserved it.” Nico fires back, the grin tears across his face.  
  
Their hands are still wrapped together when Lewis asks, “I thought you were leaving?”  
  
“I am.” Nico shakes his head and turns away. He hasn’t felt such joy, such happiness from a single conversation before. He turns around, the wind billowing through his hair.  
  
“And you are so annoying.”  
  
Lewis laughs.  
  
“Wait, I don’t have to leave, this is my part of the ship. You leave, Mr Hamilton.” Nico says.  
  
Lewis laughs, it’s a beautiful little laugh. It makes Nico smile harder. “Now who is being rude?” He asks, smirk flickering on the edge of his smile.

Nico huffs, glancing down at Lewis’s hand, he’s carrying a bound leather book under his arm.  
  
“What is this book you have?” He inquires, grabbing it from Lewis’s fingers. “Are you an artist or something?” His eyes rake over the charcoal drawings, stark against the white pages. “These are rather good.”  
  
He moves over to one of the sun loungers, sits down upon it and opens the book fully. Lewis sits by his side, eying his reaction carefully.  
  
“They’re very good actually.” Nico elaborates, his fingers ghosting gently over the pages, eyes taking in every detail.  
  
“They didn’t think too much of them in Paris.” Lewis says, eyes downcast.  
  
“Paris? You went to Paris? You go get around for a po-“ He stops himself. “A person of limited opportunities.”  
  
“Go on, a poor guy, you can say it.”  
  
Nico continues flicking through the portfolio. He stops on a drawing of a nude man. His eyes widen. He flicks over the page, stopping on more sketches of nude people. His eyes glance over the breasts, the genitals documented in exquisite detail. “And these were drawn from real life?”  
  
“In Paris, lots of people want to take their clothes off and indulge my art.” Lewis says, a small smile on his face.  
  
“You liked this woman…” Nico whispers. “You used her several times.” His hands dance over the paper, fingers coming away with charcoal dust.“I think you had a love affair with her-“ Nico says, smiling.  
  
“No, no, no, I just liked her eyes. She was a prostitute with one leg. Good sense of humour though.” Lewis turns over to the pages to a drawing of an old man, covered in different jewels, a hat on his head.  
  
“This one is my favourite. He used to sit in the same bar every night in every piece of jewellery he owned waiting for his long lost love. They called him Master Lauda. See how his clothes-“  
  
“You have a gift, Lewis. You see people.”  
  
“I see _you_.” Lewis’s brown eyes meet Nico’s once more. Nico feels like Lewis is looking into his very soul. He glances back at the drawings, hands moving over the lines. Lewis watches him carefully.


	7. Playing with Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lewis teaches Nico a skill worth knowing. Vivian helps Lewis discover his inner gentleman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long, I started about sixty new fics, but I hope you enjoy this part, lovelies!

“You have not lit all of the boilers?” Mr Ecclestone says, frown on his face as he surveys the readings before him, taking a drag of his cigarette.  
  
“I saw no need to do so, we are making excellent time.” Captain Horner said smoothly.  
  
“The impressive nature of the Titanic is her sheer size, now I want to marvel at her speed. We must give them something new to print, more headlines, more money. This maiden voyage must make headlines.” He smirks, his teeth pull over his lip, he takes another drag of his cigarette.  
  
“Mr Ecclestone, as important as you believe press is, I would prefer not to push the engines. They have not had a proper run in.” Captain Horner states, his eyes shining, never leaving Ecclestone.  
  
“So I am merely a passenger? I leave the decisions for your officers to make? But imagine if we were to glide into the harbour in New York earlier, it would make the morning newspapers, your name would be at the forefront. The man that broke the barriers of speed.”  
  
Captain Horner sits back in his chair, he doesn’t say anything else.  
  
Ecclestone takes another drag of his cigarette, his eyes glinting.  
  


* * *

  
  
“So I started off working down in the docks, then I moved to Paris, started selling my painting for petty cash, it was a difficult time but I managed-“ Lewis says, leaning on the side of the ship, the sun is setting before the pair. The sun is catching on his dark curls, making them seem almost reddish-brown, his skin seems to glow.  
  
Nico can’t keep his eyes off Lewis. “I wish I were you, Lewis-“ He says, his blue eyes never leaving the dark-skinned man. “You can just head out for the horizon, you’re free to do as you please.” He glances down at his engagement ring, it feels heavy on his finger. He tries to imagine what Toto would say, say about him standing next to Lewis.  
“Just tell me what we would do if we decided to run away, head out-“  
  
“Well,” Lewis says, his dark eyes shining. “we’d drink cheap beer, ride on the rollercoaster until we throw up. We’ll ride horses on the beach, we’d swim in the ocean.”  
  
“I can’t swim.” Nico says quietly. “Would you teach me?”  
  
“Of course.” Lewis says, he turns away from Nico, spitting out over the railings.  
  
Nico wrinkles his nose, a line of spit clings to Lewis’s lips. “That’s disgusting.”  
  
“C’mon, I’ll show you how to do it.” Lewis says, grinning widely as his hands moves to clasp Nico’s. Nico tries to ignore the golden skinned fingers, how dark they look against his own, how warm and rough Lewis’s palms are against his own.  
  
“Lewis-“ Nico protests, unable to stop the draw of laughter from his lips. “Stop it-“  
  
Lewis pulls him to another area, keeping hold of his hand. He leans over the side of the railings. “Watch closely.” He says, his head snaps back before he spits over the side of the railings. “Your turn,” He whispers, smirking.  
  
Nico spits quickly over the side.  
  
“That was pitiful…you need to move your head back, spit with your teeth, not your lips…arch your neck.” He spits again, “See the range on that thing?”  
  
Nico lets the saliva build up in his mouth, he tilts his head back and spits, grinning as he watches it fly over the railing.  
“That was better…don’t be afraid to hock it up a little more-“ Lewis begins but Nico’s eyes catch on a familiar set of blue eyes, identical to his own. Keke stands before the pair, anger evident on his face, his eyes blaze, his jawline is set, his smile tight. Lewis glances between the pair of them, confusion in his brown eyes. Keke glances over Lewis, sneer curling on his lips, his eyes flicker down to their entwined hands.  
  
“Father-“ Nico begins, pulling his hand away, blush still dancing on his cheeks. He keeps his face straight as he continues, “May I introduce, Lewis Hamilton?”  
  
Lewis smiles at the man before him, his brown eyes locked on the blue, a familiar blue, but with none of the warmth of Nico’s.  
  
“Charmed, I’m sure.” Keke replies, his jaw still tight, his eyes like chips of ice.  
  


* * *

  
  
_The others with my father were curious and gracious about the one who had saved the life of the only heir to the Rosberg fortune…but my father looked at him like he was unworthy, like he was nothing more than the dirt on his shoe. He sensed the danger; my father always was perceptive, danger that needed to be taken care of immediately._  
  
  
“Well, Lewis, it seems like you are a good man to have around in a sticky spot.” Vivian, one of Keke’s friends says, her smile is genuine.  
  
However, suddenly the dinner horn sounds out. Vivian rolls her eyes as Nico moves to take his father’s arm, tugging him away, the blue eyes are still fixed on Lewis.  
  
“Come father, let us get ready for dinner.” Nico says carefully, biting his lip. He knows his father is not happy as he leads him away. “See you at dinner, Lewis.” He says, smiling back at the dark-skinned man.  
  
Lewis watches him leave, his heart beating against his chest.  
  
“Sir, sir-“ A voice breaks through the silence. Lewis’s attention flickers onto Vivian, still standing before him, smile on her face.  
  
“I’d be careful if I were you, Sir, you don’t want to play with that kind of fire.” She says softly, her smile almost turns sad. “What are you planning to wear?” Her blue eyes flicker over the khaki shirt and the brown breeches Lewis always wears.  
  
Lewis shrugs, the smile still spreading over his lips. 

Vivian rolls her eyes, taking his arm. “I’ll sort you out, Sir.” She says, leading him away from the side of the railing.  
  


* * *

  
  
Lewis looks at himself in front of the mirror; the white shirt fits perfectly, crisp and clean against his golden skin. Vivian helps him on the jacket, smoothing it down over his shoulders, smiling as her finger dance over the soft material, removing all the creases.  
  
“I knew you and my brother were similar sizes,” She exclaims, smile still on her face as she readjusts his white bow tie. Lewis glances at himself in the mirror, his hands on the lapels of his jacket, he smoothes back his hair as he glances over himself; he can’t believe it’s him standing before him. He looks different, taller, sharper, older.  
  
“I can’t believe it’s me.” Lewis whispers, his finger ghosting over the soft, silky material.  
  
“You shine up like a new penny, Sir.” Vivian says, grinning at her handiwork.  
  


* * *

  
  
The intricately carved double doors open before Lewis; a man clad in a black suit inclines his head ever so slightly as he bids Lewis a good evening. Lewis walks into the room, soft music is playing in the background, there’s several men in dinner jackets; women in long cocktail dresses of different shades. Lewis walks down the staircase, taking in the ornate details of the room, the expensive paintings on the wall, the flowers placed carefully in vases.  He leans against one of the pillars, taking in the people milling around the room, champagne glasses in hand, fake laughs. Lewis’s fingers itch for his sketchbook, to draw every line, every detail of the room as he remembers it.  
  
His eyes lock on a familiar figure descending the stairs. Nico’s father, dressed in a blue suit, the other man is with him, the one from before; with dark hair and tanned skin, smirk on his face as they both walk down the stairs, deep in conversation. Lewis watches the pair carefully, his eyes lock on the ring on the dark haired man’s finger. He feels eyes on him, his eyes flicker back up towards the balcony. Nico is standing on the top step, smiling down at him. He looks beautiful, his blonde hair is shining in the soft light, he’s dressed in a beautiful black, tailor suit, his shirt is white with tiny teal buttons. His smile is infectious.  Lewis smiles as Nico walks down the stairs, he stops at the bottom step, his blue eyes fixed on Lewis’s brown ones. Lewis takes a pale hand and gently brushes his lips against his skin, smiling up at Nico. Nico blushes gently, ignoring the burst of warmth over his chest at Lewis’s smile.  
  
“I saw that on television once, I always wanted to do it.” Lewis laughs, offering his hand out to Nico. Nico takes it carefully, warmth brushing over his chest as he’s guided away by Lewis.  
  
“You look wonderful.” Nico whispers as he leads Lewis towards the dark haired man. He glances up, his hazel eyes lock on Lewis, roving up and down, almost calculating.  
  
“Lewis, this is my fiancé, Toto Wolff, Toto, this is Lewis Hamilton.”  
  
Toto smiles almost predatorily. “For a moment there, you almost passed as a gentleman.” He says, laughing as he pulls Keke away, his smile tugging over his lips.  
  
Lewis watches him go with a heavy heart, Nico’s hand is comforting against his arm.  
  
  
  
  



End file.
